Megan
by L.C. Stone
Summary: Megan Bresler’s stepfamily made her childhood far from easy. But when a kind prince saves her from her servitude, can Megan learn to forgive her past and exchange her fears for love? A short story based on Cinderella and tells about her life afterward.
1. Stepfamily

I wrote this story in August 2006 and edited it since then.

**Chapter One**

Stepfamily

-July 21-

Megan Bresler squatted close to the ground. She peeked out between the tiny spaces between leaves, watching her father's and Julia Brown's figures as they sauntered down the garden path a few feet away.

Duchess Julia was a tall, attractive brunette, who had been very attentive to the Bresler family ever since the death of Megan's mother four months ago. Kevin Bresler and Julia shared a common history. Both had grown up in the wealthy society of Brunmark, and both had lost their spouses. Julia had outlived two husbands. And both were raising daughters on their own.

Kevin and Julia strolled arm-in-arm to a bench beside the ivy-covered stone wall of the Bresler manor. They sat on the bench and began talking quietly. Julia's two daughters stood nearby, whispering and giggling to each other.

Tiffany, the eldest, and Nicole Brown were at least five years older than Megan, and the three had little in common. Eight-year-old Megan loved the outdoors and nature, while the Brown sisters liked nothing more than to lounge on cushion sofas and eat chocolate all day. The Duchess would never allow this activity, of course, and made sure she and her daughters kept a slim figure. The girls were also rather spoiled and often acted as if the world and everything in it revolved around them.

"Megan!" Kevin called suddenly. When no answer came, he turned back to his guest. "I'm sure she'll join us shortly."

Megan stealthily crawled in the dirt under the rose bushes, heading for the back of the garden. She was feeling shy and didn't want to be forced to play with the Brown sisters. They could be unkind at times and tease her about her small nose and short frame. Their insults, however, were only a cover for their jealously. Megan was one of the prettiest girls in town, and both girls looked with envy at her soft blond hair that curled at the end, gentle blue eyes, petite upturned nose and rosy complexion.

Tiffany spotted white linen rustling around in the shrubs and smiled. She pinched Nicole on the arm.

"Ow!" Nicole shrieked angrily.

The unpleasant squeal caused Kevin and Julia to look up.

"Nicole, please be agreeable and do not scream," the mother said slowly as if she was talking to a two-year-old.

Nicole winced and turned to her sister. "What was that for?"

Tiffany's head tilted to the left, motioning toward the movement in the foliage.

Megan was on her hands and knees when a large foot in a black slipper stepped an inch away from her face. She lifted her head, taking in a blue dress, pale skin, thick chestnut-brown hair and a pair of squinting blue eyes. Tiffany.

"Hello!" Megan said and climbed to her feet. She tried to brush off the dirt from her white summer dress, but some of the stains would not budge.

"Do I even want to know why you were crawling around in the mud like an animal?" Tiffany asked, wrinkling her long, slender nose in disgust.

"I wasn't…"

Kevin and Julia observed their daughters from a distance.

Julia leaned closer to her friend. "Don't our daughters get along well together?"

"Yes, they seem to. Megan is shy, but I think she's really warmed up to your daughters."

"Megan is turning out to be a very sweet young woman."

Kevin nodded without taking his eyes off of the three girls. "Do all fathers think their daughters are this wonderful?"

Julia glared at Megan out of the corner of her eye. The girl wasn't just beautiful. She had a perfect blend of charm and sweetness in both her looks and character. The woman was suddenly jealous of Kevin's attention. She reached up and touched his rough cheek, causing his head to turn back to her.

Megan was listening politely as the Brown sisters rambled on about fashion and food when she glanced in her father's direction. She was not surprised in the least to find her father and Julia kissing, nor was she shocked when they announced their engagement the following day. Megan knew her father wanted a mother for her, and she also knew that he was lonely.

The wedding was lovely, but as Megan watched her father's cloudy eyes during the ceremony, she couldn't help but wonder if he really loved Julia. No doubt he was physically attracted to her, but wasn't there supposed to be more to marriage than that?

Even amidst the celebrations, Megan couldn't help but feel a little bit sad.

A few months later, Megan overheard her father and his new wife arguing in the corridor outside of their room. She knew that eavesdropping was wrong, but her parents weren't exactly being discrete. Their raised voices could be heard all the way down the hall.

"Tiffany and Nicole are extremely fragile! I don't wish for them to hurt themselves," Julia said.

"I had no idea that it was so dangerous for a girl to dress herself," Kevin said, almost sarcastically.

"The girls are growing older, and their dresses are more complex. That's why you need to hire their own maids to help them now. Only two or three will do."

"Megan hasn't complained about difficulty with dressing."

"This isn't about Megan! Can't you leave her out of this for once?"

Kevin sighed and raked his fingers through his graying hair. "Over the last few weeks, I have spent more money than I have in my entire life."

This was a slight exaggeration, but even Julia had to admit that her and her daughters' _needs_ did take quite a chunk out of the Bresler fortune. She had purchased new carriages, new house linens, new dresses for her and her daughters, half a dozen tutors for her girls, two new maids for her, more jewelry than she'd ever be able to wear and much more.

After enough manipulation, Julia got what she wanted. Kevin hired two new servants to assist his stepdaughters with their every petty need.

As the years passed slowly, Megan saw less and less of her father. He was always working in the town, trying to keep up with the bills that his wife piled on him. And whenever he was home, Julia took most of his time.

Megan missed her father at first, but by the time she was twelve, her father barely existed in her world. She spent most of her hours enjoying the garden, riding her horse, or singing and waltzing in the solitude of her room.

Each season, Megan became even more beautiful and kind. Though she was a bright, observant girl, she did not know that her stepmother and stepsisters always lurked nearby, watching her with vicious envy and anger over her beauty and happiness. It was not until a grim tragedy that Megan became fully aware of her stepfamily's true nature.

On a cold April afternoon, terrible news from town reached the Bresler manor. Megan was reading beneath a tree in the garden when she heard commotion in the house. Shrieks and sobs raised the hair on the girl's neck. She closed her book and hurried into the manor, fear welling inside her.

Julia was lying across the sofa, crying loudly into a pillow. Tiffany and Nicole stood frozen in the corner of the room, their pale faces revealing the shock and awkwardness they felt.

"What happened?" Megan was afraid to ask.

One of the servants stepped forward, tears in his old, weary eyes. "A messenger just came from town. The Master died of a heart attack this morning."

Megan stared at the old man in disbelief. "Are you sure?" was all she could think to say.

He nodded.

Ignoring the pain squeezing around her heart, Megan knelt down and touched her stepmother's convulsing shoulder. In an effort to comfort her, the girl told the sobbing woman how much her father had loved her, but the widow, knowing her words were untrue, would not hear any of it.

"Get away from me!" she screamed in a hoarse, choked voice and flung her arm, nearly striking the girl.

Megan lurched back. She did not know what to do. She wanted to stay and comfort her stepmother, but at the same time, she was afraid of what the woman would do.

Gradually, Julia's sobs turned into quiet weeping, and she sat up on the sofa. Sniffling, she opened her arms wide, beckoning her frightened-looking daughters to embrace her. The sisters cuddled against their mother. Julia turned her head and gave Megan a frosty glare.

"Get out," she said slowly, her voice dripping with ice.

Tears of rejection spilled down the girl's cheeks as Megan crossed her arms over her chest and slunk out of the room.

A week after Kevin Bresler's funeral, a well-dressed man visited the manor. He said he had important business to discuss with the Duchess, and the two of them talked for a long time in the study.

Julia was furious when the man left a few hours later, and she ordered Megan and even her own daughters out of the house. The three girls retreated to the town to inspect the new slipper styles through the glass window of the corner shoe shop.

When they returned to the house for supper, Julia was calm and collected.

"Nicole, dear, eat your stew slower. You're spilling on the tablecloth," she instructed with a smile. "Megan, why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not very hungry."

"If you aren't hungry then means you're ill. Go to your room and stay in bed for the rest of the evening."

"I'm not ill," she said timidly. She hadn't had much of an appetite since her father's death, but she didn't want to tell Julia because it would make the woman sad, and then she would cry.

Julia's mood turned sour instantly, and Megan found herself wishing she had gone to bed when she was told to.

"How dare you argue with me," the stepmother roared. "I had to dismiss half of our maid staff this morning, and here you are, wasting perfectly good food. You selfish brat."

Megan felt like crying, but she held her in tears and stared at her lap.

Tiffany furrowed her thin, brown eyebrows. "You dismissed servants?"

Julia huffed and thrust her spoon into her dish. "Yes. It turns out that your stepfather was as careless as his daughter is when it comes to wasting money. You and Nicole will have to share one maid from now on, and the cooking staff will have to do the household chores."

"I can't share with Tiffany!" Nicole whined. "Her hair is unruly and it takes twice as long to braid as mine! She'll hog up the maid's time."

Tiffany glared at her sister. "That's not true. And even if it was, you still take longer to get ready. Your maid has to squeeze on your corset strings for hours. You're the hog."

Megan looked up. "I can braid your hair for you, Tiffany. I've had lots of practice on the horses' mains and tails."

Tiffany gasped. She hardly looked attractive with her jaw hanging wide open and her eyes as round as her dinner plate. "Excuse me? Are you comparing my hair to a horse's?"

"No! That's not what I meant at all. I just thought-"

Julia was swift to cut the girl off. "Megan, you are excused from dinner to go to your room. I will not tolerate harassment in my house."

Megan obeyed this time and went straight to her room to spill her unshed tears.

The same well-dressed man from town visited the Bresler manor four more times in the following two months. Megan learned from Tiffany that the man was an official who collected property and possession taxes for the King. Julia was so angry and violent every time the official came that Megan learned to disappear for the day whenever she saw the man's coach rolling into the front lawn.

One late spring morning, Megan spotted his coach in the distance and she and Tiffany decided to take a trip to town. After three hours, Megan left Tiffany, who wanted to chat longer with the apprentice shoemaker at the corner shop, and walked home alone. When she returned to the manor, a smiling Julia met her in the doorway.

"Where were you?" she inquired, her voice even. Her smiling mouth twitched, which led Megan to believe she was fuming underneath her cool façade.

"In town."

"Did you ask for permission to fool around in town today?"

"I wasn't fooling around-" Megan stopped when Julia inhaled sharply through her nose. "No, I didn't ask for permission."

"I needed you earlier, and you were nowhere to be found. I will forgive you this once, but don't leave without my permission again."

Megan looked at her curiously. "What did you need me for?"

"Chores, of course. Now get to work."

"What?"

"You heard me. I dismissed the rest of the staff today, and the kitchen needs cleaning. So if you expect me to be generous enough to allow you to eat and live my house, you'll earn everything."

With that, Julia spun on her heel and marched into the manor.

Megan had never worked so hard in her life. So exhausted was she after scrubbing, dusting and sweeping every nook and cranny of the kitchen that she fell asleep on the threshold of the hearth. In the morning, she awoke to the laughter and giggles of her two stepsisters.

She rubbed her burning eyes, but they only stung more. She looked up to find them laughing at her.

Megan glanced over her soiled dress. Every inch of her – from the hem of her skirt and slippers to her arms and hair – was covered in cinders and ashes.

"You're as black as a possum!" Nicole said. "What should we call her, Tiffany? Cinders-girl?"

Tiffany smirked. "Or Cinderella."

0 0 0

"No Mia, you can't have that." Megan tugged a rope out of her horse's strong mouth. Mia kicked up and whinnied as her caretaker tried to get her back under control.

"Stop that!" She cried in frustration as she attempted to wrap the reins around the animal's neck. Suddenly, she threw them off, knocking Megan into a pile of mud.

The girl laughed and gave up, tossing the ropes into Mia's mouth.

"Fine, silly horse. You win this time."

Megan pulled herself out of the mud pile and laughter broke out on the other side of the stall. Tiffany and Nicole appeared a second later.

"What a clumsy thing you are, Cinderella!" Tiffany mocked.

"I am not. Mia is just stronger than I am."

Nicole pinched her freckled nose. "No wonder you always smell so wretched!"

Unmoved by her comment, Megan smiled and began to brush Mia's silky brown neck. After three years, she had become immune to their name-calling and rude insults. Sometimes, she even laughed along with them.

Her agreeable disposition only angered Tiffany and Nicole. Today especially, Tiffany was infuriated that her insults never hurt her stepsister like they did when she was younger.

"What a hideous creature," she snorted, poking the horse in the eye with a piece of straw.

"Tiffany, stop. She doesn't like that," Megan warned.

Mia's temper began to rise as the obstinate girl continued to poke her eyes and snout.

"Tiffany, stop!"

Megan was just about to drag her stepsister out of the stall when all of a sudden Mia threw her head to the side, hurling Tiffany into the same mud puddle that Megan had just come out of.

Tiffany screamed and flung her limbs every which way, and Megan quickly hauled her to her feet.

"Look what you did!" Tiffany cried and raced out of the barn.

"I'm telling mother!" Nicole hissed and followed her older sister.

Megan frowned and sighed. She was always getting blamed for these kinds of incidents.

When Megan made her way to the house, Julia was already waiting for her at the front door, her arms firmly crossed over her chest. Tiffany was sitting on the steps of the porch, smiling.

"I tried to stop her, my lady," Megan said, knowing that explaining would get her nowhere, but she would try nonetheless.

Nicole gasped. "You're such a liar! You pushed Tiffany into the mud because you didn't want her touching your stupid horse!"

"That's absurd! Tiffany was pestering Mia, even though I warned her not to. Mia pushed her, not me."

Julia stepped directly in front of Megan and stared into her swollen eyes.

"Well then," she said softly, "if that horse is causing trouble, we'll have to sell it, won't we?"

Megan shook her head. "Please don't! She was a gift to me from father. Mia was just protecting herself, as all animals do. She knocks me over too!"

Julia pursed her lips and turned to her daughters. "Go clean yourself up, Tiffany. Nicole, please fetch a parchment for Cinderella so that she can write an advertisement for our mare."

The girls jumped into action at their mother's bidding.

"Take off your left shoe, Cinderella," she murmured coldly.

Megan bit her lip and reached for her worn leather shoe.

"When you're finished with the advertisement, you will take it into town and post it on the community wall there. And I never want to hear that you have been harassing my girls again."

Julia grabbed the shoe from Megan's shaking hands and struck her with it, hitting the girl across her left cheekbone and eye.

Megan's face throbbed, but she didn't make a sound.

The walk to into town was not long at all, maybe about twenty minutes. Once Megan entered the town square, she handed the guard the parchment, and he nailed it to the plank with all the other advertisements.

Megan stood for several minutes, staring at the advertisement, wondering how much trouble she'd be in if she changed her mind and removed the paper.

"Excuse me, milady." Someone behind her said.

She turned around to see who had spoken to her. A young man around her age smiled kindly down at her. His cream-colored tunic and blue overcoat were flawlessly sewn. She glanced over his round, clean-shaven face and intense blue eyes. On the top of his neatly-combed brown hair sat a small golden crown. Crown!

Megan gasped and stepped to the side, feeling ashamed for openly staring at the Prince.

"I'm sorry...y-your majesty," she stammered and blushed.

"No apology needed," he said, still smiling. "I just want to look over the advertisements. I didn't mean to startle you." His attention turned to the board, and he scanned it. Then he looked back at the girl, taking notice of her colorful bruised cheek and swollen eye. Even with a beaten face, she was still remarkably beautiful. The way she held herself told him that she was a young woman of class, but at the same time, she wore a soiled and torn dress.

"Are you looking for something?" He asked, motioning to the advertisements.

"Actually, I just posted the parchment over there. My stepmother is selling my mare."

The Prince did not miss the tinge of resentment in her tone.

"I see. And is this her choice or yours?"

Megan glanced down and stared at her feet, thinking of what to say.

The Prince noticed her uncomfortable stance and immediately felt guilty.

"That is none of my business. Please forgive me."

She smiled shyly and shook her head. "My stepmother doesn't like my horse, and she wishes to sell it."

A tall guard interrupted them. "It's time to return, your highness," he said and handed the Prince the reins to his horse.

"I must go now," the Prince said. "But before I do, may I know your name?"

"Cinder…I mean, Megan Bresler, milord," she said with a sweet smile.

His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he did not have time to inquire about her further.

On his way out of town, Prince Derek turned to his manservant on the horse beside him. "Is that the late Lord Kevin Bresler's daughter?"

"I believe so," Jed answered.

"Why was she dressed like a poor peasant girl?"

"I'm not sure, sire. Would you like me to investigate?"

"No," Derek said.

Still, even as the Prince lay in bed that night, he could not get the image of her bruised face and enchanting smile out of his mind. Why would the daughter of a wealthy lord take on the appearance of a servant? He didn't know, but he was determined to find out.

The next morning, Megan was weeding the garden when she heard cheerful conversation in the stables. Her back ached as she pushed herself up from the bed of flowers, and she raced over to the barn.

A large-framed, rough-looking man and Julia were talking.

"I haven't seen a silky coat like this in a long time," the man said, admiring Mia's shiny back.

Julia smiled. "You could get three lush pelts out of her, at least."

"Here's your fifty pieces, milady. I'll send my men to get the horse tomorrow afternoon."

Megan burst onto the scene. "No! Please don't take her. She's mine!" She dashed into the stall and threw her arms around Mia's neck.

Julia's jaw hung open in horror at the girl's outburst.

"Cinderella!" she breathed. Embarrassed, Julia turned to the man. "Sir, I'll see your men tomorrow afternoon. Thank you for coming."

With an awkward glance at the girl, the man nodded to Julia and left the stall.

Julia stared at Megan, her sunken cheeks glowing crimson with anger, her eyes fierce and cold.

"Come here, Cinderella."

With no effort to be gentle, Julia seized a thick rope and wrapped it around Megan's tiny wrists and tied her to the wooden stall divider.

"You will spend the rest of the week here!" Julia said. "And if you attempt to escape, you'll be living on the streets for the rest of your life!"

When Julia was gone, Megan wrestled with the ropes, tugging and wiggling under the coarse material. Alas, she could not break free. Tears of anger and frustration poured from her big eyes as she stood there, tied to the stall. After some time, her knees buckled from exhaustion, but she could not sit or lie down. Whenever she allowed her legs to rest, her body would swing on the rope, causing an intense pain to surge through her arms.

After nearly six hours, Megan heard footsteps in the barn. She tried to turn her body to see who was coming, but she could not twist enough to look.

"Milady?" A young man's voice broke the silence.

When Prince Derek recognized the girl and saw that she was hurt, he motioned for Jed to help her, and he sprinted in the direction of the manor.

Before Megan could answer, a stranger appeared at her side. His hands worked quickly to relieve her from the ropes. When she was free, Megan thanked the man who had untied her and glanced over her bleeding wrists.

The Prince and Julia strode into the barn.

"Your highness," Megan said, her lips quivering. She bowed her head.

Julia rushed to her the girl's side. "Oh my poor dear! How did this happen?"

Megan stared at her stepmother. She knew that if she revealed the woman's true nature to the Prince, Julia would throw her out of the manor, and she would be living on the streets. Or worse – the Prince would have Julia executed.

"It was an accident," Megan murmured, unable to meet the Prince's worried gaze.

Derek's eyes remained on the girl, searching her body for any other signs of abuse. Her cheek and eye were still swollen, but she had no other bruises or cuts that he could see.

The Prince turned to Julia. "I came here to buy the mare you are selling. I read the advertisement yesterday."

"I'm very sorry your highness, but we just sold her this morning."

"Milady, I'm willing to pay generously..."

Julia couldn't help but smile. "I'm sure something can be arranged. Please, come to the house, and we can discuss the matter there."

Later that evening, the Prince found Megan in the mucky stall, caressing Mia's velvet back and talking quietly to her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he started gently, "but I'm afraid we'll be taking her now."

Megan smiled at him. "I know you'll take good care of her, milord."

The Prince stepped forward and, to Megan's surprise, gently took her hands. He turned her hands over and lightly touched the burns and slashes from the ropes.

"Are you sure this was an accident?"

Megan quickly pulled away her hands. "Yes."

The Prince frowned and bowed. "Good evening, then."

And then he was gone.


	2. Grand Ball

**Chapter Two**

Grand Ball

Megan buried herself in her work.

She filled every hour of the day with extra chores, hoping that if she worked twice as hard as before Julia would finally be pleased with her. But it seemed that the more she worked the more her family complained. Her room became the only refuge from her demanding, quarrelsome family. Even though her work seemed endless and the abuse worsened, Megan's sweetness and beauty did not fade.

Megan's fifteenth birthday came and went without notice, and autumn's pleasant weather and warm colors soon dissolved into a bitter cold winter.

One December day, a cheerful rap sounded on the door to the Bresler manor, pulling Megan's attention from her task of dusting the staircase.

A royal officer met her on the other side of the door, holding out a gold-colored envelope.

"A proclamation from his majesty, the King," he said, shivering as snow danced around him.

Megan found Julia and the girls in the evening sitting room, which was the warmest room in the manor. Tiffany was slouching in an armchair, nibbling on a piece of chocolate. Nicole was snoring softly, curled up on a window seat with a book against her chest. Julia was the only one who noticed Megan come in.

"Oh good, you're here," she said. "The fire needs to be stoked."

Crouching beside the hearth, Megan stirred the fire and listened to Julia read the letter aloud to her daughters.

"To all the young women between the ages of ten and twenty," she began. "King Theodore and his Queen hereby invite you to a grand ball in celebration of Prince Derek' eighteenth birthday. Please join us at the palace on Saturday evening at six o' clock on the third of December."

Julia had hardly finished the last sentence before Nicole sprang out of her chair.

"I'm going to dance with the Prince!" she cried, whirling around the room, her skirt swishing around her legs. "And then he'll fall in love with me! I'm going to be the Princess! I'm going to be married to the most handsome man in the kingdom!"

Tiffany grinned. "Or he could fall in love with me."

It was a tradition in Brunmark that the Prince be married near his eighteenth birthday.

Julia beamed. "You both are the prettiest girls in the county. The only decision he'll have to make is which one of my lovely daughters will be his bride."

Megan stared at her stepmother, a sparkle of hope in her tired eyes.

"What are you looking at, Cinderella?" she snapped, and then broke into laughter. "Oh, I know what you want! You want to go to the ball! You want to marry the Prince! Well I'll tell you what Cinderella, if you wear those rags to the ball, you may go!"

Megan raised an eyebrow. "Is that a promise?"

Julia glowered at the girl, but she did not say a word.

Megan smiled at the thought of seeing the prince again. Unlike her stepsisters, she had no desire to marry him, and flirting and wooing were not on her agenda. The few times she had seen the Prince, he had been caring and thoughtful. If she was only able to see him for two seconds and thank him again for his kindness she would be perfectly content.

The day of the ball came in no time.

Megan toiled all morning and afternoon, helping her ungrateful stepsisters groom and primp. Before the break of dawn she went to work: bathing them, lathering them in the most expensive oils and spices, brushing their brown tresses and twisting them it into intricate braids.

Tiffany wore an exquisite blue ball gown and her hair looked lovely with curls and tiny doves.

Nicole, though she was a bit scrawny, looked stunning in her lavender dress.

The town bell tower chimed the sixth hour of the evening, and Julia and her daughters piled into the waiting coach. When Megan tried to climb into the carriage, her stepmother slammed the door shut, just missing her fingers.

"If you want to go to the ball, you'll have to go on horseback," Julia said, knowing that Megan would be frozen to death by the time she reached the palace.

Megan sighed and stepped away from the coach and watched it roll out of sight. A light snow was falling, but she didn't mind. She was used to the cold.

Five minutes later, Megan mounted her father's horse, dressed in a simple cream-colored dress and a heavy gray woolen cloak. The hood of the cloak warmed her head and kept the snow off of her hair.

A shivering Megan arrived at the palace thirty minutes later. Her nose and cheeks were bright pink from the cold, but the deep blush made her eyes shimmer like jewels.

Without anyone noticing, she snuck through the large ivory doors of the palace and into the ballroom. The whole dance floor was filled with lively nobles, swinging their partners in harmony with the soft orchestra playing in the background. Megan smiled. She had never been to a ball before and was delighted by the festivities around her: the musicians in the corner, the banquet tables with delicious spreads of food and the dancing men and women.

Megan crept to stand behind the circle of people watching the dancers, her eyes searching for the Prince. She overheard two women talking loudly about the Prince, and she moved closer to hear what they had to say.

"Isn't he handsome?" one of the ladies commented, staring at a boy waltzing in the center of the room.

"Oh, he is, he is!" another woman said. "I think that is the lady he has chosen to marry. She's very pretty."

Megan squinted in the Prince's direction and then at the girl he was dancing with. She was uncommonly pretty – a petite woman with millions of tight golden curls covering her head – but Megan couldn't help but wonder what she looked like beneath all her makeup. The Prince looked very noble, but he must have been wearing a considerable amount of makeup as well since she hardly recognized him. He wore a deep indigo waistcoat with gold trimming, and his crown shimmered on the top of his head.

A simply-dressed fellow approached Megan then, and she smiled at him.

"Milady, would you like to dance?" he asked.

"I would love to! Thank you."

The young man led her to the dancing floor to begin their waltz. Megan had not danced since she was a small child and felt incredibly embarrassed for tripping and tumbling as her partner tried to hold her up and keep her moving with the current of other dancers. After a while, she was able to keep up with the step work and mastered the trick of not looking at her feet the whole time.

Megan finally lifted her gaze to her partner, giving him a look of apology for her clumsiness. He stared down at her intently and pressed his hand on her high back to guide her around the marble floor. Something seemed familiar about the man as she studied his face and handsome features.

"None of the other girls seemed interested in dancing with me," he said.

"I suppose they don't want to miss their chance to dance with the Prince."

"I see."

Megan watched her partner as his gaze moved to her hand, where he studied it for several seconds before his eyes returned to hers. She squinted in curiosity.

"What is it?" she asked.

"These rope scars never healed, did they?"

Megan stumbled and nearly fell on her knees. The young man promptly helped her regain her balance. A few of the people dancing nearby stopped to look at the couple, and Megan's face turned crimson with embarrassment.

"Come on," her partner whispered and steered her out onto an empty veranda.

The night winter air was frigid and, and Megan held her elbows and tried not to shiver. He led her to sit on ivory bench and stood beside her.

"When are you going to tell me what really happened to your wrists?"

She looked up at him. "Not until you tell me why you aren't the one out there with the crown, dancing."

The Prince chuckled and leaned back against the railing. "Fair enough. As you might know, my birthday is nearing. I'm looking for a wife tonight, and I don't want to marry a woman who has no respect for lower-class people and is selfish like all the other girls in that room. I must have been refused by a hundred ladies tonight.

"I honestly thought you would recognize me when I approached you. I'm sorry if you feel tricked. I had been looking for you all night."

Megan was speechless and slightly confused. She turned her head away and smiled. Someone was looking for her. Someone actually cared for her!

When she didn't respond, Derek slipped down to kneel beside her. "Megan, I've liked you from the first moment I saw you."

He paused for a moment and Megan turned to meet his steady gaze. "I know that your stepmother tied you up in the barn that day, and as much as I wanted you to tell me the truth, I admire you for protecting your family."

Megan's brow furrowed in worry. "You won't hurt them, will you?"

Derek smiled softly. "No. But I'm going to have a very hard time letting you go back there tonight. I know this seems sudden, Megan, but please consider this: My parents want me to pick a wife tonight. You need to be in a safe place with caring people. It looks like we both need each other. I promise I'm not a creepy, hot-headed prince."

Megan smiled. "Now there's a proposal. 'Marry me. I promise I'm not creepy.'"

"Other than my lack of tact, what do you think?"

"You're a prince. You can't marry a servant."

"You're right; I can't. But you're the daughter of Lord Kevin Bresler. Your stepmother may have dressed you in rags and made you scrub floors, but she can't take away your nobility."

"I guess I don't feel very noble," she said with a shrug. "I haven't made a decision for myself in…it must be five years. I'm so used to people telling me what to do and simply obeying…"

Derek's gaze softened as he looked at her with understanding. "Megan, I don't want to pressure you, but this isn't exactly something that you can just mull over for the next few weeks. I have to know tonight."

Megan nodded her head, processing his words. After a moment, she smiled contently and agreed to his proposal. Pleased beyond words, Derek took Megan's hand and led her back into the ballroom to meet his parents.

0 0 0

Megan never returned home that night, nor did she ever hear the name "Cinderella" again. The King sent out his personal guards to collect her belongings, which weren't much, and to inform her family that she would no longer be living with them.

Megan's first day at the palace was a blur. She spent her morning taking tours and socializing with other noblewomen. By the time the afternoon rolled in, she had made over a dozen new friends and had tried on every dress that the Queen's tailors had sewn. With a new wardrobe, new friends and new home, Megan felt like a brand new life had been given to her.

With the wedding only a week away, Derek took time off from his duties to attend to wedding details and make sure his bride was transitioning well. Unfortunately, the couple's schedules conflicted at every hour. The Prince talked with Megan every night during dinner, but the two were never alone. He started to grow anxious for the days when he would be able to talk privately with his wife and see her for more than an hour every day.

The snow that covered the countryside and town began to melt the day before the wedding, leaving the courtyard ground so soggy that it was nearly a swamp. Still, the Prince and his friend, Marcus, moved vigorously on the sloppy, wet grass, their swords clashing against each other in perfect rhythm.

"Are you nervous?" Markus asked Derek, smacking his steel sword against his friend's.

Derek shrugged. "A little. But there's not much to be nervous about. The ceremony may be long, but I'll be glad when it's over. And nothing much is going to change."

"Except your sleeping arrangements."

The Prince stopped fencing. "What did you say?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Listen you, Megan and I are friends, if even that. We hardly know each other, and she's not ready for that kind of relationship."

"But you are."

"I'm not going to force her. That's wrong."

"No it's not. The Church teaches that a wife's body belongs to her husband. That means you can do whatever you want. And besides, you're the Prince!"

"First," Derek started, "I don't care what the Church says. The old Scriptures are not permitting rape when it talks about the duty of a wife. Second, I know full well that I'm the prince, but that doesn't give me the right to take whatever I want and behave like an animal. And third, this is none of your business."

"No offence your highness, but I think you're wrong," Marcus said.

"That may be, but I'm not going to change my mind."

Marcus' words bothered Derek for the rest of the day, and the Prince made up his mind that he didn't care if his fiancé's and his schedules were in conflict. He was determined to talk the matter over with Megan tonight.

Not feeling very hungry, Derek pushed around his food on his plate at dinner. He glanced at the girl beside him and noticed that she was doing the same. When the people around them were busy conversing with each other, Derek leaned close to Megan.

"Can I talk to you tonight?"

"I'm afraid not. I have a meeting with the advisors to talk about foreign politics."

"Megan, this is important."

"I can't just tell them 'no,' your highness."

"Of course you can. I canceled most of my engagements this week. No one will think any less of you."

Megan turned to look at him, her face downcast. "You don't understand. I can't as in I'm simply incapable of telling them 'no.'"

Derek paused. He realized that she had probably never said 'no' to anyone without being punished afterward.

"I'll take care of it," he promised.

Immediately after dinner, the Prince called off the meeting and escorted Megan down the hall to her room. He had noticed throughout dinner how tired and quiet she was, and though he was burning to talk with her for hours, he believed sleep was more important.

They stopped before her bedroom door, and Derek waited for her to look at him.

"Megan, how do you feel about staying with me in my room after tomorrow?"

"Permanently?"

Derek nodded.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"Then I will." She turned to go inside, but his voice stopped her.

"Megan. You didn't answer my question. I asked how _you_ feel about it."

Megan had spent so many years suppressing her feelings and ignoring them that she hardly knew how to feel anymore.

After a moment, she answered, "I honestly don't know."

"All right. Well, I want you to know that after tomorrow, you'll be welcome to my room whenever you want."

Megan nodded, and her exhaustion was evident in her drooping posture.

"Are you always going to be this submissive?" Derek asked with a smile.

"I don't know how to be any other way. I think the only time I ever stood up to someone was when Julia tried to sell Mia to a pelt trader. That's when she tied me to the stall."

Derek made a mental note that he was going to have to be careful not to boss this girl around or take advantage of her sweetness.

"I see," he said. "I hope you sleep well."

"Thank you, your highness."

"You can call me Derek, you know. I'm not saying you have to, but you're _definitely_ allowed to."

Megan smiled and even in her weary state her blue eyes sparkled. "Goodnight, Derek."


	3. Princess

**Chapter Three**

Princess

-December 10-

The cold morning bloomed into a beautiful winter day. Megan watched from her window as the sunrise shimmered over the fields of frost. She smiled contently.

"I can't believe I'm getting married today. To a prince, no less," she said to herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud sniffle and sob. With a growing smile, Megan turned to her lady-in-waiting, who was preparing a bath by the hearth.

"I don't think my own mother would cry as much as you have if she was alive and here today," Megan said with laugh as Eleanor blew her nose on a handkerchief for the hundredth time that morning. She'd never seen anyone cry from being too happy before, though her father used to tell her that he and her mother cried with joy when they held their daughter for the first time.

After Megan's bath, Eleanor instructed that she rest for the remainder of the morning, knowing the girl hadn't slept well the night before. A few days ago, Megan told Eleanor that she had slept better in Bresler manor than at the palace, but she would not say the reason for this. Eleanor knew better than to press her for more information, but she hoped the girl would confide in her someday, or better yet, confide in Derek.

As the afternoon sun reached its peak in the sky, the crystal clear chimes of wedding bells sang over the town.

Megan knew a moment of panic. "Am I late?"

Eleanor smiled. "Not at all. The bells gather the people to the church. We'll go when you're ready. They can't start without you."

Hannah, Eleanor's 8-year-old daughter entered the room and skipped over to her mother, who was finishing Megan's hair.

"You look like an angel!" Hannah said with a tooth-less grin.

Megan turned in her chair and gazed into the full-length mirror. She could hardly believe the girl in the reflection was her. Her satin gown, lined with pearls along the sleeves, hem, and square neckline, shimmered in the candlelight. She was slightly flushed, and her pale skin glowed with a hint of rose. Honey-blond hair flowed over her shoulders in soft waves while an elaborate gold tiara rested on top of her head.

"Megan?" Eleanor touched her shoulder. "You look upset."

The girl stood to her feet and she smoothed her dress. "I'm feeling overwhelmed, and I wish this day was over."

Hannah's little hand found Megan's. "Don't be sad. You're the prettiest girl in the whole world!"

Eleanor smiled. "Today will be over soon enough. I'm sorry this is hard for you. I don't want you to feel like you have to do this alone. Hannah and I will walk with you to the church, and Derek is waiting for you there."

Much to Megan's relief, the ceremony went by quickly. Ever since she stepped into the church, she felt like she was in a daze. Throughout the day's events, she kept wondering if this was truly real. Even when the royal family and wedding guests sat down to enjoy the grand feast Megan felt out of sorts and confused. She also hadn't been able to say a single word to Derek, which did not help her situation.

From a distance, Eleanor watched the Princess. When Megan grew so pale that Eleanor was afraid she was going to faint or be sick, the lady-in-waiting discretely removed the girl from the table and helped her escape the dining hall.

"Derek's room is this way, milady," Eleanor said when Megan turned down the wrong hallway.

Megan stopped and bit her lip, looking uncertain. "I want to go to my room, if that's all right."

As this was the first decision Megan had made all week, Eleanor wasn't about to argue with her.

Derek, who had observed Eleanor and Megan leave the dining hall, had to use every ounce of self control to force himself to stay with his guests. The evening was far too young to leave the banquet, though he wanted nothing more than to be with his wife. She had looked tired and distressed when she left, and worry for her preoccupied his mind until he finally made his exit hours later.

Megan awoke late the next morning, feeling refreshed. With a yawn, she stretched and smiled.

"You slept for almost twelve hours," Eleanor said from the chair by the hearth.

The girl's eyebrows raised in surprise. She looked down at her hand and saw the golden band around her finger.

"Eleanor?"

"Hmm?" the woman hummed without looking up from her sewing.

"Did his highness-err…Derek come by last night?"

"Yes, he did. He was concerned when he saw you leave the banquet early, but I convinced him that you were fine and just needed some sleep. We talked for a few more minutes, and then he left."

"Was he angry?"

Eleanor met the girl's anxious gaze. Her smile was assuring. "Not at all."

Megan gave a small smile. "What's on my agenda today?"

"You have dance lessons this afternoon. Other than that, you're free to do whatever you want."

Megan didn't budge, and by the looks of her troubled face, Eleanor guessed that she had no idea what to do with herself.

"Are you hungry?" the woman asked, smiling.

She nodded hesitantly.

"When I finish this stitch, I will get your breakfast."

Megan hopped off her bed and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'll go to the kitchen and get it."

0 0 0

Prince Derek woke to sunlight falling in bright rays across his large, four-poster bed. He rolled over. Something squeezed his heart at the sight of the empty space beside him. He had known that Megan had gone to her own room last night, but he hadn't felt disappointment over her decision until now. He sighed and prayed for patience.

0 0 0

After dressing and twisting her hair into a loose bun, Megan made her way to the lower floors of the palace. She heard the sounds of clashing pots and pans and voices as she neared the kitchen, and a mouth-watering aroma filled the air. After a few seconds, she could make out the servants' words over the sizzle of food and sounds of chopping.

"Yes, she's very pretty indeed Margaret, but you don't think that's the only reason the Prince chose her, do you?" one of the cooks said.

"Well from what his personal menservants said last week, I don't think he cared for her personality. If she's as dull as they say she is, then he's in it for her looks. Why else would he marry a peasant?"

Another woman's voice entered the conversation. "Well I heard rumors this morning that the prince slept alone last night."

Gasps sounded around the room.

"I don't care what anyone says. He's a prince. Royal brats are only capable of seeing skin-deep. He wanted a pretty girl, and he's got one. It's just sad he had to reach into the trenches of society to find one."

"Too bad we weren't born with a pretty face. Then we could all marry princes."

Megan forgot all about her growling stomach.

"Are they right?" she wondered. "Did he only marry me for my looks?" Megan hated the thought of believing such gossip, but she hardly knew the Prince, and the servants in the palace had known him his whole life.

Megan nearly ran back to her chamber.

Eleanor met her in the doorway.

"There you are!" she panted. "You just missed the Prince. I told him I'd have you properly dressed and ready in an hour. You two are going on an outing, he said."

"Wait a minute. I _am_ dressed."

"Well, yes…you are. But you're a Princess. You can't wear that simple thing if you're going out into public. I probably shouldn't have even allowed you to walk about the halls in that. But that's my mistake, not yours."

Megan took a step back, looking skeptical. "Why does how I look matter so much?"

Eleanor blinked. "His highness asked that you be dressed properly, that's all. What are you getting at?"

"I'm not going," Megan said.

"What do you mean you're not going?"

Megan frowned and looked at the ground. "You may tell the Prince that I will not be joining him on his outing."

"As you wish, milady."

Megan did not leave her room until her dancing lesson.

Like every afternoon since she first came to the palace, Megan entered the vast ballroom, and her dancing instructor greeted her.

"Good day, Princess Megan." Lady Rose said gracefully as she swooped into a perfect curtsey.

Megan mirrored the curtsey.

Soon, the old woman started counting "1…2…3…1...2…3…," and guided Megan in an elegant waltz.

The session was going ideal until an unexpected visitor entered the room.

"May I cut in, Lady Rose?" The Prince asked as he observed the two women.

"Of course your highness!" the woman said and backed out of the dance.

Megan stiffened as Derek drew near her. He took her right hand and pulled her close with his other. They danced silently for a few minutes, gliding around the room.

Finally, Derek broke the silence, his voice even.

"I missed you this morning."

Megan did not answer, and she would not meet his gaze.

"Is there something bothering you?"

A small nod was all he got.

"Megan, please talk to me."

She lifted her face and looked at his affectionate expression.

"Can we talk somewhere else?"

"Yes, of course."

Their waltz ended abruptly, and after thanking Lady Rose for her time, the couple exited the ballroom.

Lady Rose smiled to herself and shook her head as she watched them disappear behind the glass doors. "Newlyweds…"

The Prince's chamber was bright and warm. With the sunlight streaming into the room, there was no need to light candles.

Husband and wife moved to sit on the sofa across from the fireplace.

"This morning I heard the servants talking about us. They said that you only married me because I am beautiful, and that the only reason you would marry a peasant is for her looks, nothing else. They also know that I did not spend the night with you."

Megan did not want to go on. She felt a warm blush creep into her cheeks.

"Megan," Derek said softly, bending his head to stare equally in her clear blue eyes. "You _are_ very beautiful. Probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and everybody knows it. But that's not why I married you. It is said that beauty fades. Why would I want to marry for something that's only temporary and not important?

"I didn't know you very well when I proposed, and I still hardly know you. But I saw immediately that you were kind and sweet. If you had shown any hint of indecency, I wouldn't have asked you to be my wife, even if I was unbelievably attracted to you, which I was."

"I can tell you're a smart girl who likes to think things over. This said, I don't expect you to believe me right away. But I hope that, as you get to know me, you will trust me. And I want you to allow me to get to know you, too."

Megan gave him a small smile and nod.

"I'm sorry that you had no time to prepare for these transitions – from peasant to Princess, from single to married. I'd like to say that the changes will go smoothly, but I know that would be a lie. But I'm here for you, Megan. If you need to talk, come to me, and I promise to listen."

"Please don't be angry with the servants. They didn't know I was in the corridor when they said those things. I don't want to get them into trouble; they didn't do anything wrong."

Derek smiled. "I'm not angry with anyone."

Megan returned his smile and sighed with relief. "I'm curious about something."

"What is it?"

"Where were we going to go on our outing today?"

"Into town. You have hardly left the palace since you arrived, and I thought you might like to see some familiar sights and get some fresh air."

Megan shifted on the sofa and she bit her lip, a gesture Derek had learned to mean she was feeling insecure about something.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't go into town. My stepfamily might see me."

"So? They already know we're married. Seeing us together won't shock them."

"Julia will kill me if she sees me again."

"No, Megan," he said with a sigh. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Megan looked so distressed that Derek thought she might cry.

"If you aren't ready to go into town, we won't. I have a better idea anyways."

"Oh?"

Derek smiled. "How does horseback riding sound? It will give you a chance to get reacquainted with your Mia."

Megan's grin was enough of an answer for him.


	4. Love

Chapter four concludes the story, and the epilogue is located at the end of this chapter.

**Chapter Four**

Love

-May 29-

The cherry blossoms outside of Megan's window framed the glass with a soft pink haze. The courtyard below her balcony was blooming with new buds and blossoms. Whenever a light breeze blew, she could smell the fragrance of lilac and fresh grass. The springtime reminded her of the garden at Bresler manor. She wondered who was caring for the grounds now that she was gone. It was hard to believe she had left the manor only five months ago. She felt as if she had just arrived.

Palace Brunmark did not feel like home, but the bustling royal life was slowly becoming more familiar to her.

Eleanor and Hannah were always very attentive, and Megan saw Derek whenever his schedule allowed. With the spring in full bloom, however, the Prince was busy managing trade routes. In a week, Megan was lucky if she saw Derek two or three times.

Megan still was not sleeping well, but she was managed to keep up her energy with frequent afternoon naps. Eleanor was acutely aware of the Princess' insomnia, but since the girl never brought up the issue, Eleanor let it be.

0 0 0

A thick and painful darkness swirled all around Megan as she attempted to lift herself from the hard ground.

Julia's sharp voice speared her ears as the woman thrust a hard rod into the girl's sides, shattering her ribs. Sweat pooled on Megan's forehead and screams of despair escaped through her bleeding, swollen lips. The beating continued.

Her stepmother grasped her hair, ripping strands of it out and pulled the weeping girl to her legs.

Before her eyes, was a gruesome corpse sprawled out on a bale of hay. Blood poured from his dark eyes and broken nose. Half his limbs were twisted and some missing from his crumpled body. His wrinkled tongue lay on his white tunic in its own puddle of blood. There, dead by a horrible beating lay Kevin Bresler, father to one girl.

Megan gasped and awoke from her terrifying nightmare. She was holding her breath, scared to breathe, scared to move. Every muscle in her body tensed. Salty tears and beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks, forehead and hair. She checked her surroundings.

With trembling hands, Megan lit a small candle and finally exhaled. This must have been the hundredth time she'd dreamed that nightmare since coming to the palace. Still, every time the horror seemed more real. Her nightmares were getting worse.

Her bedchamber was dark and peaceful. Faint sounds of drunken knights could be heard coming from the nearby dining hall, and the crackling hearth gave comfort to the frightened girl.

She promised herself last week that the next nightmare she had she would go for help. Megan did not need to convince herself. This dream was the worst of all.

Leaving the candle burning on her nightstand, she darted out of the room into the cold, dark corridor. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, and shivers continued to gush through her body.

With her small fists, she pounded on the Prince's door. In a matter of seconds, the door opened, revealing a shirtless Derek. He frowned down at her.

"Megan?" He whispered with alarm and pulled her into the room.

After the door was closed, Megan leaned against it, holding her elbows. "I…I h-had a…nightmare," she whispered, holding back sobs.

Derek lit a candle by his bed and joined her at the door.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently and held out his arms to her.

Without hesitation, she walked into his embrace. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed heavily, feeling protected and warm.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"No, I'm glad you did," he replied with a smile. "I wouldn't want you to be scared and alone. How often do you have nightmares?"

Megan bowed her head and started to cry again. "All the time."

Derek led her to the bed. They sat on the edge, and Derek lit two more candles, giving the room a soft glow.

"I have nightmares about my father and mother dying," she started softly. "Sometimes the dreams keep me up all night. But I've never had one like this." She paused to wipe a tear only to find them a pouring rainstorm. "It seemed so real."

Derek ached for the young woman and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Sometimes dreams seem real, but they aren't. Your father mother and father are in heaven. They can't die again."

"I know they are," Megan said, sniffling. "You must think I'm so childish from getting scared over some silly dream."

Derek tightened his arm around her. "There's nothing wrong with being frightened. And I'm always here for you when you are afraid. I just wish you would have told me earlier that you had nightmares. I feel horrible that you've been so scared every night, and I didn't even know."

The two of them talked quietly until the night was very late and exhaustion slowly began to overtake Megan. She wavered, trying to keep her eyes open.

"You're tired," Derek said. "Don't worry about anything you have planned tomorrow. In the morning, I will cancel all of your meetings. You need to get some rest."

Megan nodded compliantly.

"I'll walk you back to your room." Derek moved off of the bed and took one of the candles.

To his surprise, Megan didn't budge. She simply stared at him.

Trying to keep the hopefulness off of his face, Derek bent over her, studying her. "Megan, do you want to sleep here tonight?" he asked evenly. "I promise I will let you sleep."

Megan nodded.

Derek nodded back at her and helped her crawl underneath the covers. He climbed in beside her, leaving a few inches between them.

For several minutes he rested flat on his back, listening to her soft breathing. Eventually, she rolled over onto her side and snuggled against him, tucking her head under his chin and resting her arm across his lean stomach.

"Megan?" he whispered and shifted to pull her comfortably to him. She didn't answer, and her steady breathing told him she was sound asleep. Derek smiled at the feeling of holding her and closed his eyes.

Megan woke just as the sun was rising. She arched her back to stretch and yawned quietly, peering at her surroundings. The room was beginning to brighten with the sunrise, and a candle still burned on the nightstand.

She smiled at the young man sleeping on his back beside her. He looked so peaceful and sweet. Gently, she touched the hairs that fell over his forehead, smoothing them aside. She was shocked when he stirred from the light contact. His eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," he said with a drowsy grin.

Megan smiled and propped her head up with her elbow. "I can't believe I'm awake this early," she said. "I like to sleep in."

"I've noticed," he said, his voice deeper than usual. "Every time I stop by your room before breakfast you're asleep."

She blushed at the thought of him finding her asleep, though she didn't know why she felt so embarrassed over it.

Derek scooted to a sitting position and leaned his back against the headboard.

Megan changed the subject. "Sometimes my nightmares would keep me up all night, and I would sleep into the afternoon. I hated wasting my days like that, but I just didn't have any energy to do anything."

He frowned. "Well, I can't promise that you won't have bad dreams, but if you sleep in here, I can assure you that you'll never be alone. I'm a light sleeper so you won't even have to worry about rousing me if you're scared. Chances are I'd already be wide awake."

The door opened then, and Jed, the Prince's manservant marched in, a fresh tunic and pair of trousers draped over his arms. He stopped when he noticed the two people staring at him from the bed.

"I beg your pardon, your highnesses…," he stammered and quickly dropped the clothes on the sofa. "I'm very sorry. I didn't know."

Derek smiled and held up his hand. "It's all right. Just remember to knock from now on."

When the manservant left and closed the door behind him, Derek gazed at his wife. For the first time since she had come into his room, he noticed that she was not dressed in a typical feminine nightgown. The garment was white and covered her from the base of her neck to a few inches above her knees. Even with the sleeves rolled up, they swallowed her fingers.

"What are you wearing?"

"One of your shirts. I haven't worn a nightgown since my mother died. My father used to let me wear his tunics to bed. I tried to sleep in a nightgown for my first few nights here, but my legs couldn't breathe, and I felt trapped. So Eleanor brought me some of your shirts." Megan smiled hesitantly. "Are you disturbed?"

Derek held back his laughter, but he couldn't keep the sparkle out of his dark blue eyes. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Megan looked quizzically at her husband, but she did not ask what he meant.

Derek continued to smile. Even with disheveled hair and dressed in a man's shirt Megan was entirely divine.

0 0 0

-July 9-

"The rumors about your stepmother were confirmed this morning, milady," Eleanor said upon entering the Princess' sunlit chambers.

Megan looked up from her book. "Then she's married?"

"Yes, to Lord Wesley of Northgale. It's a harbor city off the southern coast, about a month's journey from here."

"And my stepsisters?"

"Nicole accompanied Julia on her way to Northgale last week. Tiffany and her husband live about thirty miles from town here."

"Husband?" Megan frowned and looked out the window. "I didn't know she was married."

Eleanor watched the Princess' somber profile. "Can I get anything for you, milady?"

The girl shook her head and feigned a smile. "No thank you, Eleanor," she said, rising to her feet. "I think I will take a stroll in the gardens."

The afternoon sun was just beginning to blanket the valley with its warm rays. It was a hot July day, but Megan didn't mind the heat of the sun on her face.

In the courtyard, Megan followed a mossy stone footpath leading to a wide silver gate. With little effort, she pushed the gate open. She brushed back light branches that hung over her path. The grass beneath her was soft and green, and hundreds of vibrant wildflowers were scattered about.

Plots of roses, tall white daisies, and lavender flowers shaped like bells surrounded a square fountain and benches in the center of the garden. The groundskeepers had trimmed the shrubs and trees to perfection, but Megan spotted a few tall weeds among the well-manicured rose bushes. Careful not to stain her dress, she knelt on the dry ground and tugged at the intruders.

This was the scene Derek happened upon when he came into the garden to find her. An amused smile played on his lips when he spotted his wife on her hands and knees, weeding.

"You'd better not let the groundskeepers see you. They'll think we're going to fire them."

Megan smiled. "Nonsense. The gardens look splendid." She held up a fistful of gristly weeds. "These nasty ones grow overnight."

Derek helped her to her feet and his eyes softened. "Eleanor told me about your mother's marriage. How do you feel about it?"

She shrugged. "I guess I feel a little relieved that she's too far away to hurt me now. Other than that, I don't feel much of anything." She paused and frowned. "Derek?"

"Yes?"

"Did you know Tiffany was married?"

He nodded slowly. "She eloped with an apprentice shoemaker about five months ago, and I heard that she's expecting now."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how you would react. You always get so tense whenever anyone mentions anything about your stepfamily. I thought it best to let you forget them."

"But I haven't forgotten them. I think about them every day. And then I feel angry. I thought that my stepfamily would come to their senses by now and come to me to make peace. They must still hate me…"

Derek smiled. "You're a princess, Megan. People can't just approach you like they used to. You have to be somebody important to request an audience with the Princess. The Breslers are no exception."

Megan turned away and wandered towards the fountain, her face pensive. She stopped and sighed. "I still have hope that I will see Tiffany again and that we can be reconciled," she said with her back to the Prince. "But what am I supposed to do about my feelings towards Julia and Nicole now that they will never have a chance to apologize to me?"

Derek stepped behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "You will have to learn to forgive them even if you never see them again," he said softly.

After a moment, Megan turned around in his arms and smiled up at him. "All right," she said. "I will try."

0 0 0

-September 13-

Megan's sixteenth birthday was a full day of celebration.

Eleanor was placed in charge of her schedule for the day. "You'll have breakfast with the King and Queen in the conservatory and lunch with the ladies from-"

"Will I see Derek today?" Megan asked softly.

"Yes, I was getting to that…" Eleanor said slowly.

Over the last several weeks, the Princess seemed more and more anxious to spend time with her husband, and Eleanor had resolved that the girl was entirely smitten. But when Megan's nightmares had subsided, she began to sleep in her own chambers once again, leaving Eleanor utterly confused.

Megan smiled, twirled around in a circle and plopped down on her window seat. She watched the autumn rain beat down against the glass.

"Do you love the Prince?" the lady-in-waiting said after a minute. Eleanor and Megan had become very close friends since Megan first came to the palace nine months ago, and as such, Eleanor felt completely comfortable asking her anything.

The girl's smile disappeared and her head hung as if she was guilty of something. "Yes," she murmured.

"Does _he_ know that?"

Megan shook her head. "I don't want to love him. Everyone I love dies. I don't think I could make it through yet another heartbreak."

Eleanor kneeled before the girl and gently grasped her upper arms. "People all over the world die. Loved, or unloved, it makes no difference. If his highness died in the next year, heaven forbid, wouldn't you rather have fond, loving memories to hold onto? Don't let fear stop you from loving someone. You're both missing out on what each other has to offer."

Megan listened carefully and let her friend's words soak in. She realized how selfish her fear was and immediately felt ashamed. She told Eleanor as much a few moments later, tears in her eyes.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Eleanor said with an encouraging smile. "Jed said that the Prince left early this morning for a ride. He should be back anytime now. If you hurry, you might be able to catch him before your breakfast with their majesties."

0 0 0

Prince Derek was not outside the stables for five seconds before a bare-footed, soaking-wet girl came running up to him.

"Megan, what are you doing out here?" he said, surprised.

"I have to talk to you."

"Fine. Let's get out of the rain first."

Megan followed her husband into the barn. Derek retrieved a horse blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He removed his dripping wool cloak that had kept him dry and hung it on a peg.

"Happy birthday," he remembered to say.

"Thank you."

Megan stepped directly in front of her husband, and though he wasn't much taller than she, she still had to tilt up her head back to look at him. Derek smiled into her face, waiting patiently for her to speak.

"I'm afraid to be in love with you because I'm scared you will die," she said calmly. "But I don't want to be scared anymore. I'm sorry that my fear has robbed us of some of the memories we could have made over the past year."

Derek could only stare at her, wondering to himself if he could possibly love her any more than he did in that moment.

"We have plenty of time to make memories, Megan," he said in the softest voice. "Thank you for being so honest with me. Now let me tell you something that frightens me: I know how much pressure you've been under, and I don't want you to force yourself to have feelings for me just because you think that will please everyone. Eventually someone will stop telling you what to do. Then you will have to decide for yourself." He paused for a few seconds before he bent his head to look at her levelly. "For a moment, forget about disappointing people and trying to meet their expectations, even mine. And tell me truthfully…what do you want?"

Megan's face broke into a smile and she put her hand on his cheek and kissed him. It wasn't a short kiss either. Just as she was about to lean away, she felt Derek pull her closer.

Most girls imagine their first kiss in a moonlit garden or at a grand ball. No one would jump at the idea of kissing in a smelly old barn with the snorting of animals and the aroma of fresh dung. But for Megan, kissing her husband in those stables that day was one of the most romantic moments of her life.

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**EPILOGUE**

-June 18-

Megan smiled into the face of the prettiest baby she'd ever seen. The pink-faced infant cooed and giggled in her aunt's arms.

"I wish you could stay longer," Megan said, not yet ready to surrender the precious bundle to the waiting arms of her stepsister. "A week is hardly a sufficient amount of time to get to know my niece."

Tiffany gazed at the charming young woman standing beside her. After all of the terrible things she'd done to her stepsister, she'd never expected an invitation to visit the palace. But Megan's sweetness had no boundaries, and within the first moments of Tiffany's arrival, the past was forgiven, and a new friendship blossomed.

"We'll come again in the fall. Ben is planning on bringing us to town to meet a caravan of leather merchants in late September, and by that time I will have a chance to meet _my_ new niece or nephew."

Megan waved until the coach disappeared behind the courtyard gates. Just then, she felt a warm hand on the small of her back and turned to see Derek grinning down at her. Her eyes shone bluer than ever against the contrast of her rosy cheeks, and her growing tummy made her look all the lovelier.

"How do you feel, Princess?" he asked before he bent his head to plant a short kiss on her lips.

"Tired and happy."

"How does a nap sound?"

Megan gave a small shrug. "We won't have many more cool mornings like this, and I thought I'd walk the grounds before the afternoon heat comes."

"Can we agree to a no-weeding policy?" He raised an eyebrow, pretending to look serious.

"I'm not making any promises."

Derek smiled. "Thought so."

With hands entwined, the Prince and Princess strolled into the garden.


End file.
